


2AM

by Ms_Marchy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentions of Suicide, Steve Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Angst, Tony-centric, he doesnt hate Tony, i cant figure out how to tab my paragraphs, no happy ending, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Marchy/pseuds/Ms_Marchy
Summary: Sometimes when the nights get quiet, Tony can't be alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fic! I hope you enjoy! Any questions and/or comments are appreciated!

At 2am, Tony shuffled into the elevator and pressed the button to Steve's floor.

Steve had obviously been woken up, his hair was disheveled and his shirt was wrinkled. "Tony?" He yawned, "What's wrong?" 

"I need to stay here," Tony slurred. "Here," he repeated, swaying.

Steve nodded and reached down to grab an almost empty bottle of whiskey that hung threateningly in Tony's limp hand, just enough grip to keep it from sliding from his fingers and staining the welcome mat at Steve's door. "Are you okay? Do you need me to call Bruce?" He wasn't sure what Bruce could do, if he was even up, but the manic look in Tony's eyes told him he wasn't the right person for this.

Tony yawned and suddenly it was like he could barely keep his eyes open. Steve thought it was a miracle he didn't fall over in the elevator. "I have to stay here. I can't be near them," was Tony's answer, hanging off Steve as they moved to the couch. Tony missed the couch, landing on the floor, but he shooed Steve away when the younger man tried helping him up.

"Near what, Tony?"

"The bad stuff," he mumbled miserably. "Pills, bottles, sharp things. I don't think I'd use my gun," Steve gasped, feeling his blood run cold as the pieces of what Tony was saying came together, "but I don't want to take the chance, I don't-" His voice hitched but he didn't move to cover his face. Steve almost wanted to stop him. He was obviously too drunk to register what was coming out of his mouth. But at the same time, he wanted to hear more. It was so rare for Tony to share his feelings. To get the help Tony really needed. Tony wont appreciate this in the morning, especially coming to Steve instead of Clint or the Doctor. Not that Steve minds, he would rather Tony come to him than to sit in his lab drinking himself to death. "I don't want to die, not really. Not yet. I mean- I do. I'm tired. I'm so tired. I have to watch everything I do now. I can't... I can't do whatever I want- It's not just me that I hurt anymore, it's you guys too. I can't drag you into my turmoil. I want it all to end, but I'm not allowed to." There were tears trailing from his eyes into his hairline.

"Why aren't you allowed to?" Steve pushed gently. Maybe he hated taking advantage of Tony like this, but this seemed to be a very serious thing going on and Steve wasn't going to just turn his friend away and let him stew in his lack of self-worth.

Tony sniffled. "I can't waste my life. I promised Yinsin I wouldn't waste it. He died trying to help me escape the Ten Rings. I only built an armor for myself. I didn't even get him protection in case something went wrong. And he died and I was allowed to live. And for what? The only thing keeping me going is to help fix what I created. I want it done and over with. I don't want to live with this anymore." Tony was touching his arc reactor but somehow Steve thought it meant something deeper.

"How long have you been thinking of killing yourself?" Steve asked, sitting by Tony's feet. The words were shaky. He almost wanted Tony to blow this whole thing off, act like that wasn't what he was talking about. He didn't like this. He didn't want to think about a life without Tony. He was one of the strongest connections grounding him to this world.

"Since I can remember," Tony whispered, his arm over his eyes. "Maybe the first time I really thought about it.... I was six?"

Steve's heart broke. No child should feel like that. Sometimes he hates hearing Tony talk like this, smearing Howard's name but he scorns himself for thinking that way. It's not Tony's fault Howard turned sour after the war. Many good men did. Sometimes all it took was hearing bullets whiz past you, hear the screams of pain from the men that you knew, even from those who you didn't like; sometimes it took seeing your best friend die.

Steve took a couple deep breaths. He had a question to ask, and he had to keep himself prepared and leveled regardless of the answer Tony gave. "Tony, did you ever... try before?"

Tony was practically passed out, but he made a small noise. "Couple times," he mumbled. "Rhodey was always there to get me back, though. Thank God for Rhodey," then he was out.

Steve couldn't agree more. "Thank God for Rhodey," Steve echoed.

He got up and lifted Tony back onto the couch. It was large, wide enough to fit both of them. Steve lay next to the passed out man and wrapped his arms around him tightly, an ache in his chest he couldn't squeeze away.


End file.
